


For Their Eyes Only

by RecordRewind



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Other, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 15:18:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RecordRewind/pseuds/RecordRewind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Batter has a little problem to deal with. Knowing his Player is watching him is unexpectedly... stimulating. OFF kinkmeme fill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Their Eyes Only

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on jerkin_off.

The Batter stared at the entrance to the Residential area. If being unceremoniously kicked out right after purging the place of the massive amount of ghosts felt unfair to him he didn't show it. It appeared the lack of gratitude had bothered his puppeteer, though, since they kept on having him try and enter the area again, to no avail.

Finally, they gave up and the Batter felt the light pressure on the back of his shoulder, telling him it was time to head somewhere else. The Batter turned and walked down the road, letting himself be guided as usual. His trust into his puppeteer, his Player, knowing the right way to go was matched only by his pristine faith in his own mission. His steps never faltered, and nothing would have suggested to the Player watching him that he might have anything on his mind but the purification of the Zones.

In fact, the Batter was trying very hard to keep his mind focused on his task, and not let it wander somewhere else. To his nether regions, to be more precise.

He wasn't surprised by his body's reaction. Anxious to have all the ghosts purified before the counter reached zero, the Player had set all the battles to auto, leaving the Batter free to let all his rightful rage out. And as it had sometimes already happened in the past, the rush of unrestrained violence, the exhilaration of the fight, had left the Batter more than a little aroused. Proof of that was the hard shape pressing against trousers that had suddenly become way too constricting. In the Batter's opinion, this was an unfortunate, though minor inconvenience, something to be either ignored or dealt with as quickly as possible. Distractions from his pure path. He usually took care of his imperfect body's needs when his Player was logged out, and preferred not to linger too much on the awareness it was the memory of his battles, of enemies crushed under his bat, that stirred them up.

Now he didn't have the time for that. He was walking to the Library again. His pace was erratic, his Player interrupted it every few moments in order to do something else in their world. The Batter couldn't fathom what could avert his Player's attention from their shared holy mission. Clearly, this “checking the dashboard” Zacharie had once mentioned was a matter of the utmost importance.

As the Batter was left on his own for long minutes he found difficult to stop recalling the battle. Unconsciously he moved his hand to the front of his trousers and he pressed it there, a minimal friction that provided him only the slightest relief. 

Just as he rubbed over the fabric, only a little, he felt again the pressure on his shoulder, dropping immediately.

The Batter yanked his hand away. Had his Player seen him? Had them... realized what was he doing? Frozen to the spot, he felt burning shame wash over him. He looked up to the sky, cringing, and cursed himself because not even the knowledge his Player was watching him in that very moment made his body relent. If possible, he felt he was becoming even harder. The sky was empty, and for horrible moments the Batter thought his Player had abandoned him in disgust. The thought filled him with a fear he didn't know he could feel. He waited, dreading.

The touch on his shoulder came back, and the Batter breathed out in relief, as he resumed his walk towards the library. His Player was ready to forgive and forget his mistake. It meant the Batter had to ignore his erection till it went away on its own, but he was more than willing to do that. Anything, not to make their Player think less of him.

-

The one who tugged his strings led the Batter inside the Library, and then out again in the north side of the zone. It looked like he was heading to the Shopping Mall again. The Batter wondered why. He climbed the stairs inside the Mall then up to the first floor and moved through the empty, almost entirely purified, corridors, passing by rows of shelves filled with bottles and boxes, meat and plastic. Finally, he reached a dead end. The Batter stood in the empty room, looking around for a chest to loot, a sheet with some kind of clue, a reason to be there. He saw nothing.

The Batter shifted his weight from one feet to the other, puzzled. He rested the bat on his shoulder and glanced up to the ceiling (he always pictured his puppeteer watching him from above, wherever he was), waiting for some kind of indication as to why he was there.

Then, with the soft throbbing of his still half-hard erection, realization dawned on him.

Without lowering his gaze he reached down to slowly palm himself. No tug on his shoulder stopped him, and the Batter smiled. His Player had guided him to a secluded place so that he could take care of himself. Grateful, the Batter pressed into his hand, he let his bat fall on the floor with a thud and reached with his other hand to unbutton his trousers. As he did that he noticed something else. His Player's gaze... it hadn't left him.

They were still watching him.

The thought sent a completely unexpected shiver up the Batter's spine. His Player... the one in whose hands the Batter had laid his own fate and the fate of his mission, the only being that he could conceive as purer, that he _knew_ was purer than himself... wanted to see him succumb to his lowest urges.

It shouldn't have made his head spin and his belly and legs feel liquid with excitement. It shouldn't have made his shaft instantly rock hard again. It shouldn't have, but it did.

Swallowing, the Batter looked up again.

“Do you want to see this?” he asked with a smirk. He opened the last two buttons. He had no underwear, and his shaft stood immediately to attention, the tip already glistening. He grabbed it softly around the base, pushing his hips forward just a little.

“Then keep your eyes on me...”

The Batter backed so that he was leaning against the wall and he started pumping himself with long, slow strokes. This wasn't what he was used to. He was used to jerking off alone, hidden, as fast as it was possible. But now that he knew his Player wanted to watch, he wasn't going to let them be disappointed.

He pushed his trousers down a little, so that he could sneak his free hand down to caress his balls, fondling them as he changed the rhythm of his strokes, made them faster and then slowed them down again. He ran his fingers along the sides of his member, tightened them right under the head and stroke the sensitive skin there in a circular motion. Under the gaze of his Player, he discovered for the first time what touches drove him crazy with need.

“Do you like what you see?” he panted, as his fingers found yet another sensitive spot. “This is all for you, for you only.” His strokes grew harder, firmer. He reached up to wipe the sweat off his brow, and knocked his cap off. He ran his hand through his hair and then pressed it over his mouth, as he felt fluids gathering under his thumb, his fingers smeared them all over his burning skin. “Look at me,” he laughed softly. “I _weep_ for you, my Player.”

The Batter fell to his knees, his right hand now moving fast and without restraint, building the pressure inside him, his left again cupping his balls and stroking the skin beneath them. He rocked his hips shamelessly, as he gritted his teeth. Every stroke now bordered on painful, and yet it brought him closer and closer to bliss, just a little more, just a little harder, a little _higher_ \--his mouth opened in a mute groan and his head rolled back but he never closed his eyes, keeping them fixed where he knew his Player's eyes were, as he reached his climax.

Slowly, his legs trembling with the aftershock of the most intense orgasm he had even experienced, the Batter caught his breath. He sat down, and glanced at his hand, covered in his own semen. He smiled, lifted it to his mouth and lapped at his fingers.

The Batter knew it was impossible, but he could have swore he heard his Player moan.


End file.
